By Thea Pueschel
A few weeks ago, I sat at my desk in the Markham cabin at the beautiful Dorland Mountain Arts Colony overlooking the Temecula Valley. I was confident that the words would trickle from my fingertips. They didn’t. Instead, I productively procrastinated and gave the desk lamp a face and christened him Lampé.
Goodbyes can be hard. Clearly, from the found object lamp collage, you can see I was distressed to the point of cubism.
Last year, when Noriko Nakada was passing the baton for Blog Managing Editor, I saw her at a party. She asked me if I was interested and if I thought I’d apply. I vacillated. Was I qualified enough to edit the work of such a great community of talented writers? What direction could I possibly take it? I sent in my letter of intent, went through the interview process. I waited patiently for the news. There were other qualified and talented writers that were interested in becoming the BME. Surely, they wouldn’t pick me, the candidate that lacked editing experience.
I don’t know what tipped the fates in my favor, but I was given the opportunity to run the Intersect series. I cannot express the gratitude I feel for all the writers that were willing and able to trust me with their words, and Xochitl Julissa-Bermejo, and the leadership team for giving me the honor to guide.
The editor/writer relationship is sacred in my mind. It only seems fitting that the final essay that I edited for Intersect was that of Sara Chisolm, an editor for Made in L.A. As editor I had solicited several writers with work I admire, most didn’t submit, but Sara did. I met her at the Vroman’s reading for Made in L.A. Vol. 5: Vantage Points and as we talked about childhood fears of the Night Stalker and the cultural tapestry that is Los Angeles; she made me hungry for her words. A month later, she submitted “Stories Told and Untold in the City of Angels.” After editing the piece, I can still smell the incense and buttery Salvadoran quesadillas.
In my role as editor, I didn’t want to modify voices. I wanted to provide a megaphone for each writer and shine a spotlight in dark corners where I thought their voices could be a little louder. I must commend the authenticity and vulnerability each writer brought to the process. Audrey Harris Fernández floored me with “On Losing a Religion and Finding a Voice,” I too had left a faith and could resonate with the sentiment “For years after leaving… I felt adrift.” I asked her for more Audrey in the piece, and she brought herself forward with ferocity. Stories like this are often untold.
I had the privilege of nominating two writers for the Best of the Web. Gina Duran’s essay “How the Crestline Blizzard Taught me Forgiveness” and Ashton Cynthia Clarke’s “Drapo Vodou Art of Myrlande Constant – Traditional African Religion Meets the Colonizers.” I was lost in the blizzard and felt the ice crystals of frozen snow in my bare hand and heard the squeal of the tracks of the subway on Ashton’s mother’s secret visit the Obeah woman.
I can’t list everyone that I went through this creative evolution with, but you can read all of them here. Each writer left me with the gift of deeper understanding. I’ve worked with several types of editors over the years in various spaces. I learned each time, specifically how I did not want to behave or operate if ever given the seat of editor. I’ve worked with kind editors and cruel ones. When editing I wanted to foster community and exchange, so I met writers where we intersected on the corner of compassion and mutual respect.
What the writers of the Intersect taught me through the editorial process was how to communicate more effectively as an editor, how to create a style guide for fixes to ease the burden of edits, and to set clear boundaries. The latter part, I thought I had already, but it was my first time in this role, and I had to learn to be more specific as time is a commodity and something I have in short supply. They also taught me how to be a better writer. I think all writers should do a stint editing. It shows the world from a new perspective. It shines a spotlight on the dark spaces in one’s own writing.
The curtain is closing on this act, but it will rise again, and I hope to read your words in the future incarnation of the WWS blog under the guidance of the new editor.
Editing is a dance. I feel honored so many writers were willing to partner with me. It is with sadness and excitement I pass the hat on to another to fill the year long position. I am excited to see what direction they take the blog, and plan to submit.
Thea Pueschel is a writer, multimedia artist, and the blog managing editor for the literary nonprofit Women Who Submit and a repeated Dorland Arts Colony Resident. Thea has been published in Short Edítion, Perhappened, and the Made in L.A. Anthology: Vantage Points Volume 5, among others. Thea is known for drinking copious amounts of iced tea, random acts of binge creation, taking people through subconscious journeys and teaching people to make shapes with their bodies.
Writer’s note: Dorland is a beautiful low cost residency. If you would like to go somewhere local that feels off the beaten path, I highly suggest Dorland. I was introduced to this residency through Women Who Submit. Did you know that the Kit Reed Travel Fund offers three $350 awards to BIPOC women & non-binary writers to attend a writing program or residency and that the Zachai cabin is $350/week?